


The Maiden Fair

by Maewen_Stark



Series: The Maiden and her Dragon [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Healthy Dose of Cunnilingus, A Sprinkling of Humour, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Opera AU, Porn With Plot, R Plus L Equals J, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 01:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14557590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewen_Stark/pseuds/Maewen_Stark
Summary: Attending operas with his royal family on public display was something he usually loathed, until he laid eyes on her.





	The Maiden Fair

He tuned out the chittering voices around him, mentally cursing his father for strong-arming him into accompanying the family at their weekly outings to the Royal Dragonstone Opera House. It was no great surprise that Rhaegar was partial to operas, considering the way he always acted like the brooding royal star of his own personal melodramatic saga, but it was clear that no one else was here just for the music.   

Quite a few courtiers took turns each week to join the Targaryens in the royal box, hoping to gain favours from the king or lure a prince (or two!) into the welcoming bosoms of their families by surrounding them with their unmarried daughters. Aegon and Viserys were more than happy to take advantage of the situation and polish their flirting skills, while Rhaenys and Daenerys preferred to catch up on the latest gossip with the ladies or occasionally be courted by some admiring young lords.   

Tonight, Jon was seated between Lady Myrcella Baratheon and her lioness of a mother, who was busy extolling her daughter’s charms to him. Her earlier attempt to do this with Aegon had failed miserably, since he had been far too preoccupied with the creamy cleavage visible above Lady Margaery Tyrell’s low-cut neckline. Jon knew that he should feel offended to be the second choice, but he was more bothered by the heated glances which Dany was throwing at him from the far right of the box. A week ago, her hand had slid up his thigh during the opera, grazing his clothed cock and causing him to jump up from his seat and rush out with mumbled excuses. He had avoided her ever since.

He dearly wished that his mother was alive, so that there would be at least one person who would understand how the incestuous traditions of the royal family repulsed him, and who would try to be a buffer between him and Dany. Aware of all the eyes on the royal box and weary of the never-ending courtly machinations, he inwardly sighed with relief once the lights were dimmed, signalling the start of the opera. Holding his opera glasses in front of his eyes, he pretended to be immersed in the production of _Six Maids in a Pool_ , hoping to deter both Lady Baratheons from continuing to converse with him.

During the fourth and final act, Lady Cersei accidentally jostled his elbow as she turned to whisper something in Sir Jaime’s ear, almost causing his glasses to fall. After accepting her hushed apology, he raised the glasses once more to his eyes and was startled when his gaze mistakenly landed on the box across the hall, which was directly opposite the royal box. That box belonged to the Tarths of Evenfall, whose enormous wealth lay in the countless sapphires found on their lands. They rarely attended the opera, but there was a lady sitting in the box tonight, whose cheeks were visibly glistening with tears and whose gloved hands were clutching the railing as she witnessed the tribulations which had befallen Florian and Jonquil on stage.

Jon had never seen any other young lady so genuinely invested in an opera before. All the women he knew, including his own half-sister and aunt, were usually bored at such performances since they mainly attended the opera to publicly showcase their standing in society. They only displayed flashes of emotion by gasping or sighing when they felt that it was appropriate to do so and were easily distracted, quietly whispering amongst themselves or taking short kips at times. Since the current opera was relatively new and not yet critically acclaimed, it was also not too appealing to the ladies present in the royal box, some of whom had declared earlier in the evening that they wished _The Dance of the Dragons_ was being performed instead.    

Curious about the identity of the mysterious lady (who was clearly not Lady Brienne Tarth!), Jon adjusted the lens of his glasses, aiming to get a closer look at her. As the glasses became focused, he felt the whole world come to an abrupt standstill. His heartbeat thundered in his veins. He had never believed in the Seven, but surely, they had to exist, for the face of the Maiden herself had been revealed to him. Eyes of the deepest sapphire and rosebud lips, high cheekbones smoothed over by snow-white skin- all framed in a heart shaped face and surrounded by waves of liquid fire.

He was lost. Time must have passed while he gazed upon the Maiden, for the remainder of the act was done and everyone had loudly applauded the performers before he managed to regain control of himself. Standing up and walking towards the exit of the box with everyone else, he could not help but glance one last time in _her_ direction, only to realise with a sinking feeling that she had already left. He ignored everyone around him and tried to spot her downstairs whilst waiting for the royal carriage at the entrance of the Opera House, but it was all in vain.

***

A week later, he was in complete agony and kept messing up his cravat, half-terrified and half-joyous at the idea of possibly seeing her again. Upon reaching home from the opera, he had considered asking his friend Sam to find out who she was, especially since he did not know anyone who was close to the Tarths and could be questioned about her identity, but he had changed his mind after some self-reflection. Ever since his mother had died and his father had legitimised him as second in line to the throne after Aegon (not without ample protests from Viserys and Rhaenys), he had strived to be a model prince so that no one would be able to cast aspersions on the way his mother had brought him up.

What would it say about his character if he chased after the first beautiful face he had been attracted to? Jon felt slightly disgusted with himself- his experience in the royal palace at King’s Landing had taught him long ago that physical beauty could often mask a black heart; besides, he did not want to be like the rest of his family members who frequently gave into lustful temptations rather than seek out true love. He was resolved not to satisfy the heat simmering beneath his skin and be named a true Targaryen dragon. Yet, it was undeniable that he could not bear the thought of never again laying eyes on the Maiden who haunted his dreams.

Once he was in the royal box, he quickly grabbed a front seat next to one of the walls and invited little Lady Shireen Baratheon to sit next to him, since he knew that she would not bother him during the opera. The Tarths’ box was still empty, but midway through the first act, he noticed some movement in the dim light of that box and his entire being felt electrified when he saw _her_ take a seat. She was quite tall for a woman- he would guess that she was almost his height, and had a slender figure.  

He stopped himself from getting lost in admiring her once again, but then he thought: _Why not?_ If he observed her long enough, maybe that would help him to discover any secret flaws in her and keep his absurd fascination with her in check. Having made up his mind to be a pseudo-detective, he commenced his personal investigation of the Maiden.

Observation #1: Her ~~gorgeous~~ blue eyes (he made a mental note to be objective and not praise any of her features) suggested that she may be related to the Tarths. Lady Brienne was an only child though, so perhaps this was her cousin.

Observation #2: She was a lady who clearly cared for her appearance and not only dressed in the latest fashion, but also kept up with hair styling trends and ensured that her face was blemish-free.

Observation #3: She preferred to use her opera glasses only when the stage actors were on the side furthest away from her, rather than all the time.

Observation #4: She had an expressive face which displayed various emotions as the opera moved along. This was a slightly irritating quality, because he felt quite helpless whenever she was especially moved by a certain part of the opera and tears filled her eyes. However, her ~~lovely~~ toothy smile whenever something good was occurring onstage did enable him to revert to his normal objective investigating self.       

Observation #5: She was looking in his direction with her opera glasses because Shireen had giggled loudly at something onstage.

_Auntfucking dragons!_ (He refused to involve his mother in his cursing.) He quickly brought his own glasses down, praying to the Old Gods that she had not noticed him staring at her. What if she thought he was a creep like late Lord Frey? _Why should I care what she thinks? I’ve not done anything illegal._ Nevertheless, his eyes did not stray from the stage after that.

***

It was the responsibility of a good detective, even a pseudo one, to observe his subject as much as possible in order to glean more information about said subject. Jon was cognisant of this important duty, so he decided to attend the opera every single night for two weeks, hoping to find out whether the Maiden attended the opera on fixed days or whether she had a flexible schedule. He explained away his sudden fervent interest in the opera to his father as a way of connecting with him, and Rhaegar was so moved that he instructed the staff in charge of the royal box to attend to _Prince Jaemon’s_ every wish and even arranged for him to meet some performers backstage on one of the nights. Jon considered asking the staff if they knew who the Maiden was but decided that that would be too dangerous and tempt him to really chase after her.  

By the end of the second week, he had figured out that she attended the opera twice a week, and was currently observing her as she enjoyed the production of _Brave Danny Flint_. Lady Brienne had joined her once in the box the week before, so it was clear that they knew each other, although he really found it difficult to believe that they may be related. The only downside to the new addition to the box was that she was completely bored by the opera and looked around the hall, spotting his glasses trained in their direction and frowning severely at him.

Feeling terribly embarrassed, he had lowered his glasses and tried to pay attention to the stage, but froze when he noticed that Lady Brienne had whispered something to her companion, causing _her_ to raise her own glasses in his direction and then say something back. Luckily, Lady Brienne was not present tonight, so he hoped that he would escape the Maiden’s notice.

He was seated next to Dany, who had fortunately stopped all her advances towards him once he had confided in her last week that he was sexually attracted to men and wished to keep it quiet out of fear of Rhaegar’s reaction. Dany had immediately taken him up as her latest charitable cause, introducing him with a benevolent air to as many young lords as possible whom she believed to be of the same persuasion. As he turned to reply to a question which she had asked him, he noticed that the Maiden had raised her opera glasses and was now looking in his direction instead of at the stage.

Feeling slightly flustered, he looked down at his lap after talking to Dany before looking straight up into _her_ eyes, or rather her glasses. _A good detective must never fear discovery._ He offered her a small smile, which grew wider when she gave a small start of surprise. She lowered her glasses and stared at him. They continued to steal glances at each other throughout the rest of the evening.

***

It had been three months since he first laid eyes on her. They were both much bolder now, staring openly at each other through their opera glasses for most of the acts, almost daring the other one to be the first to look away. He wondered if she knew who he was since he sat in the royal box; he did not look like a typical Targaryen though, so perhaps she thought that he was just some young lord or courtier.

He himself kept speculating about her identity. He could have asked Sam or one of the royal spies to find out for him, but he was too shy to ask the former for help and was wary of asking the latter since they would probably report back to his father. There was a certain appeal in having a mystery to puzzle over, anyway, so he was not too bothered about learning her name for the time being.

What did bother him, however, was the way in which thoughts of her had taken over his entire existence. Despite all his intense observations as a detective, he had yet to succeed in finding a single fault in her. The only possible flaw was that she evoked such strong emotions in him that he almost threw his glasses down and jumped out of his seat in despair (and jealous rage, which he acknowledged later to himself in private) when a young lord accompanied her on one of the nights.

She must have noticed his distress, for her eyes widened and when her companion was busy looking at the stage, she pointed subtly at the lord and shook her head once, mouthing a word which looked like ‘brother’. Taking a closer look at the lord, he realised with a sense of giddy joy that the young man did look very similar to the Maiden, with the same blue eyes and auburn hair. He put his glasses down and shot her a brilliant smile, to which she blushed so deeply that he could spot the crimson on her cheeks from across the hall.               

He had stopped lying to himself that very night. He longed for her so much that he was surely turning mad like some of his ancestors before him. He had to get near her somehow, to quench this incessant burning in his heart. Having made up his mind, he took some of the staff aside at the end of one of the operas and instructed them to dim the lights even further in her box the next week, when it would be just the two of them since the rest of the royal family would not be attending the opera on that day. He also asked them to use one of the side curtains to cover one half of the box, leaving only the side closest to the stage open. If they found his requests odd, they made no mention of it.

The next week, he arrived early at the Opera House and sat down in her box, waiting for her with bated breath. He tried to calm his nerves, telling himself that it was his duty as a man to take the first step in courting his Maiden. He checked his pocket watch- she was later than usual, and the opera had already begun. He could hear the opening music of _Six Maids in a Pool_ and remembered with a jolt of serendipitous surprise that that particular opera had been performed the night he first caught sight of her.   

Suddenly, he heard some light footsteps and a swish of silk as _she_ (presumably) entered the box. Standing up and turning around, he could make out her startled expression as she stopped walking towards the front of the box. Raising a finger to his lips to signal that she should not make any noise, he then held out his right hand to her. He had forgone wearing gloves tonight. She studied him for a few moments in silence, before moving forward and gently clasping their palms together. It felt like air had rushed into his lungs after a prolonged period of drowning.          

Slowly, he led her to two seats at the front which were covered by the side curtain, but which were closest to the open half of the box so that some reflected light from below would enable them to see each other’s faces properly. He did not let go of her gloved hand as they sat down, feeling like he was in some sort of marvellous dream as they gazed upon one another. Her eyes were even more beautiful up-close, the colour of the deep ocean surrounding Old Valyria and brimming with quiet joy and wonder.

He released her hand and brought his own up to caress the side of her face, feeling slightly dazed by the softness of her skin. Her lips trembled, and he traced their outline with his thumb; he simply could not hold himself back anymore. Bringing his face closer to hers at a languid pace, giving her ample time to stop him if she wished to do so, he brushed his lips lightly against hers. A rosy blush coloured her cheeks, before she closed her eyes and raised her face even closer towards him. He could not hear anything besides the roaring in his ears.

Tilting his face and closing his own eyes, his lips pressed against hers once more- one, two, three times. Her lips parted on an inhale and he sucked her bottom lip gently, before tracing it with his tongue. Her own tongue touched his timidly, and he twined them together before sucking lightly, causing her to moan softly and clutch his waistcoat with her hands. He was in heaven; none of his past escapades with Lady Val Rayder when they were younger and filled with youthful desires remotely compared to even a few minutes of kissing his Maiden.

Their kisses grew deeper and hungrier by the minute, and he tried to muffle her moans with his mouth as much as possible when he remembered where they were. Her hands had moved instinctively to tug at his hair, while one of his hands was cradling the side of her head and the other was wrapped around her waist over the arm of her seat. He could not think straight anymore; wildfire charged through his veins. They broke apart for air, trying to control their heavy breathing.

Her eyes were dark with burning lust. He could hear the high notes hit by the soprano below as Jonquil finally confessed that she loved Florian too, and keeping his eyes on his Maiden, he slowly stood up and then knelt before her. She looked confused, but he gestured at her ear and then pointed towards the stage, and she nodded in understanding.

As Florian sang to Jonquil, embracing her in his arms at long last and tumbling to the forest floor with her, Jon placed his hand on his Maiden’s right ankle, slowly slipping it beneath her skirt and petticoat while keeping his gaze locked with hers. Her hands were gripping the armrests of her seat tightly and she bit her lip hard, staring at him with wide eyes. His heart pounding madly, he slid his hand even further up her leg, feeling the soft silk of her stocking grazing his palm. Once he reached her knee, he slowly pushed it outwards, moving forward and situating himself in between her now parted legs.

Reaching up to kiss her once more, he now used his left hand to push her skirts up to her waist and draped the material over one of the armrests. Her hands helped him to keep the material from falling again, her chest heaving with rapid breaths, and he tapped his finger on her lips to remind her to remain quiet. Breaking their gaze, he brought both his hands up to the middle of her right thigh and started rolling down her white stocking, revealing her creamy skin inch by inch. Leaving the silk to pool at her ankle, he placed a kiss at the top of her knee and then repeated the same motions with her left stocking.

Once her legs were bare, he looked back up at her- her eyes were the deepest blue he had seen yet, dilated and filled with wanting. He pointed at the stage again, and as Florian asked his ladylove to let him drink of her secret honey, Jon slowly peeled his own lady’s silken drawers down, past her knees and further down to join her stockings. Madness completely overtaking him, he placed both his hands on her knees and parted them even more, before bending down and letting his nose graze the thin layer of soft auburn hair guarding her lower lips.

She let out a low moan as he finally, _finally_ , pressed his lips to her centre. She smelt of lavender and something tangy, and his heart raced madly as he imagined her massaging lavender-scented cream by herself here. Kissing her twice more, his tongue peeked out of his mouth and flicked the soft flesh at the top of her lips, before sucking it hard. Her hands yanked at his hair almost painfully as her breathing quickened even further, and his lips curved against her skin in a smile.

Parting her lips with his tongue, he started licking her in earnest, in broad eager strokes which had her legs trembling around his head. They could still hear the orchestra below, and he matched the rhythm of his tongue to that of the music, sometimes going fast and sometimes teasing her with light, leisurely licks as the music came to a lull. She had arched her back in a state of mindless rapture, pushing her lower lips even further into his mouth. His beard was soaked with her juices as he continued nipping, licking and sucking at her divine cunny.

Aware that the music was soon going to reach a loud crescendo, he increased the pace of his tongue, before plunging it deep inside her and giving her a series of short, rapid sucks with his mouth which caused her to almost pull his hair out as she convulsed around him and reached her climax at the same time as the music. Not letting go till he had sucked every drop of her delicious honey, he finally brought his right hand up to wipe at his mouth and looked up at her.

His Maiden looked thoroughly ravaged, with eyes still half-closed in ecstasy and a deep blush running from her cheeks all the way to the top of her bosom peeking over her neckline. His blood was still hot, and he felt some discomfort due to his strained trousers, but he ignored his own needs and helped her to lift her drawers, roll up her stockings and arrange her skirts neatly once more before the lights came up to signal the first interval.

They exchanged bashful looks; he could barely believe what he had done tonight. And yet, he was flooded with such a deep sense of joy that he knew in his bones that his entire world was about to change for the better. He held her hands and kissed the insides of her wrists.  

“My name is Jon.”

She blushed prettily.

“I am Sansa.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I have been silently following this amazing fandom for quite a few years now, but had such a vivid JonSa dream a few days ago that I simply had to put it down into words. This is my first work on this platform, I hope that you have all enjoyed it!


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